


Catalust

by quiet__tiger



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Sex, Dubious Consent, Joker loves Batman, M/M, Sex Pollen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-16
Updated: 2017-04-16
Packaged: 2018-10-19 17:31:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10644690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quiet__tiger/pseuds/quiet__tiger
Summary: Joker gets what he wants, with a little help from Ivy.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to Livejournal Jun. 4th, 2007.

Joker pulled at the cords binding his wrists to his ankles, and only succeeded in making them tighter. Again. But he was just so _uncomfortable_ in this position, wrists tied around his back with a short cord linking them to his ankles. He lay on his side on the grated floor, crammed in between the pilot seat and the back wall.

He hadn’t expected the evening to go this way. Harley had asked him to accompany her and Ivy to Metropolis, and he’d gone because it sounded like fun. Fight industrial pollution with the girls, and spread some of his own mayhem in that brighter city. In retrospect Harley had probably invited him because she knew Batman would choose to capture him over the girls if he had to choose.

Harley was a twit, but not _all_ the time.

So here he was, trussed up in the Batrope, or whatever Batman called it, being flown back to Arkham. He was thirsty and tired and angry at Harley.

And horny. Definitely horny.

How many of his fantasies had started just like this? Restrained by Batman, bound by one of his toys. Close quarters, tight enough to hear the creaking of the plates of armor in Batman’s costume as he moved, smell the man’s sweat, see the way the muscles in his jaw were clenched tight.

Oh, what he’d give to have Batman land the plane and turn around, kneel over him and play with those bindings, cape flowing over him, lean down and touch his mouth to-

“Get up.”

Joker looked up into the blackness surrounding Batman, who was standing over him without a sexy sneer in sight. Joker hadn’t even felt them land, but they must have. “Get _up_.” Batman undid the straps around his ankles, and Joker slowly got to his feet.

Outside the jet stood guards and two doctors, and Batman helped escort Joker back to his cell. He could feel his presence at his back, a wall of strength and determination. As he was thrown into the cell, Batman grabbed him by the shoulder to turn him around. Joker could practically taste the anger as words were hissed at him. “ _Stay put_.”

And then he was gone with a showy wave of his cape, and Joker slumped against the cold stone wall. It was almost enough to get him off, this game he and Batman played, but never quite enough. And Batman never knew it. Joker craved the touch of a man who would sooner never lay eyes on him again, let alone his hands.

Maybe there really was something wrong with him.

~*~

_Three weeks later_

“Harley!” Joker howled as he searched the hideout he’d last shared with Harley. It looked like no one had used the place in weeks. He sat on a couch for a minute, enjoying being home and free for a while. One of these days Arkham might get decent security, and then he might never get free again.

He’d never see Batman again, and he just couldn’t have that. He needed his Dark Knight.

But right this second he needed Harley. There was only one place she might be.

~*~

Joker knocked on the door of the homey and yet industrial house of Poison Ivy. Unfriendly-looking plants lined the porch, and he nervously knocked again. Finally Ivy came to the door wearing a pink towel and a frown. “Can I help you?”

He snarled, “I’m here for Harley.”

The response was flat and clearly a lie. “She’s not here.”

“Like _fun_ she’s not.” Joker pushed past Ivy, ignoring her harrumph of protest, and stalked through the house. “Harley!”

She carefully poked her head out of the bathroom. “M... M... Mistah J. What are you doing here?”

Now that he had her, he sauntered over to her. “Harley, so good to see you again.” He dropped his voice as he leaned over her. “Since I thought I’d rot in Arkham forever.”

“I was gonna spring ya, Puddin’, I swear, we were just waitin’ for the right time...” Harley flicked her eyes toward Ivy, and Joker’s followed. Ivy stood there stoically, arms crossed over the towel at her chest.

Joker turned back to Harley and grabbed her bare shoulders, one of her hands clutching her towel tighter. “We’re leaving.”

“But Mistah J-”

“No! You deceived me and used me, and left me there. Because of _her_.” He jerked his head towards Ivy. “I’ll teach you to go behind my back-”

“Oh, for Pete’s sake.” Joker whirled around towards Ivy, so livid he could snap her neck with one hand. He reached out and started to stalk towards her when she dropped something into his outstretched hand.

“What’s this?” He looked at the vial in his hand. It was three-quarters full of pink dust.

Ivy trailed the fingers of one hand up her arm, looking both sexy and bored. “Pollen.”

“If you want to kill me, you might want to try something stronger.”

“If I wanted you dead, you wouldn’t have gotten through the door.” Ivy slunk over to Harley and put one arm around her shoulders, stroking one of the blonde’s arms with her other hand. “Take that as an apology. We didn’t mean you any harm.”

“I’ll bet.” Joker shook the vial then started to open it. “What do I do with-”

“Don’t open it!” Joker froze and looked more closely at the vial. It didn’t look too dangerous. He glanced back up at Ivy and raised his eyebrows. In answer, she explained, “The pollen is special. I only use it for very special occasions. And people.” She twirled some of Harley’s hair around her finger.

“And what am _I_ supposed to do with it, based on that in-depth explanation of what this stuff is?”

“Have the Batman inhale it. Then you’ll see.”

“Batman? What does he have to do with this?”

“What relevance _doesn’t_ he have when it comes to you? We all know what you think of Batman, you aren’t subtle.” Ivy held Harley tighter and adjusted the blonde’s towel. “Just make sure you can be alone soon afterwards. You’ll like it, I promise.”

Joker watched as Harley kissed Ivy, and he tried to figure out if he wanted to watch, leave them alone, or shoot them both in the face. He decided to let them have their fun while he planned a way to get Batman alone.

But for what?

~*~

Joker was normally an expert at devising grandiose plans to draw Batman’s attention. He’d had years of practice. He always liked finding new ways to get Batman close to him. Physically, anyway. Never emotionally. He wouldn’t know what to do if that transpired, anyway. He wanted to feel with his disfigured body, not his empty heart.

He’d dreamt about it again the night before, what it would be like to be under Batman, be taken by him. His hands entwined in that silky cape, his own pale thighs surrounded by muscular ones. He woke up desperately needing to come and hating his brain for teasing him so.

It was driving him crazy, relatively, all the tension he felt around the Batman. He’d even let his feelings slip several times, not that Batsy noticed, too occupied in saving people and ignoring him. Granted it took a lot of work to ignore him, and Joker sometimes let himself wonder what it would be like to be the focus of that intense, undivided attention.

Perhaps tonight, with Ivy’s wonder pollen, he’d find out.

Or maybe it would make Batman shrivel up into a husk of a man as he died from the inside out. Hopefully not. Joker’s life didn’t have much of a point without Batman in it.

He knew it was dangerous to put all of one’s being into another person- he was crazy, not stupid- but sometimes these things couldn’t be helped.

And maybe he didn’t want to help it.

Maybe he liked the attention, liked working for the attention, liked having a purpose, liked giving Batman a purpose.

He was already crazy. It wasn’t like this revelation changed much.

All of this led to the current Tuesday night, where he’d taken a grocery store hostage simply because he wanted to see if it were possible. He’d gone in undercover, had some goons secure the exits, and then revealed himself. That had been an hour and a half ago. Joker was getting antsy. Could Batman actually be standing him up?

They’d had a date!

Joker would keep the place under control, then Batman would come and take him away, and then he’d try to use Ivy’s wonder dust. No matter what happened, he’d at least get to smell that deliciously sweaty Kevlar again.

He was about to organize relay races with eggs and spoons when finally a Batarang knocked his gun out of his hand. Before he could snark at Batman he was dumbstruck yet again by the sheer attractiveness of the large, angry man stalking in his direction. What made him crave dominance from such a frightening, imposing figure? He didn’t much care, so he didn’t spend too much time mulling it over.

Batman rounded up his goons quickly, and let Joker get halfway through a storeroom before catching up with him. Not that Joker would have allowed himself to get away, but he didn’t want Batman to think he was giving up. If he thought Joker was giving up, then maybe he wouldn’t want to play anymore, and then where would he be?

“Batsy! Need to stock up on anything? Eggs, bread, pineapple? Please say pineapple.”

Batman didn’t reply as he snapped a cuff around Joker’s wrist. Before he could grab the other one, Joker used a sleight-of-hand move to drop the vial of pollen from his sleeve to his fingers. Squirming from Batman’s grip, Joker spun around and opened the vial, and flung it into Batman’s face.

He wasn’t sure if Batman was more surprised that Joker resisted restraint, since he normally let Batman tie him up without issue, or by the pink dust flying all over him. Either way, he reflexively sucked in a breath, looking like he swallowed some of the stuff. Batman grabbed him by the lapels, shook him, and demanded, “What was that?”

“Don’t worry, Batsy, it wasn’t mine.”

“What. Was. It.”

“Honestly, I don’t know. We’re going to find out together. Won’t that be fun?”

Batman punched him in the jaw, then finished binding his hands.

“Okay, maybe not. But what’s the worst that can happen? She promised me it wouldn’t kill you.” Okay, so not really, but Batsy didn’t know that. And besides, if Ivy had something that readily killed Batman, wouldn’t she have either used it or sold it by now?

How long did the stuff take to work, anyway? Any second now Batman would leave him for the police and just poof away into smoke.

“Even if it did kill me, you’d still be in Arkham.”

“But for how long? Those idiots couldn’t keep track of my comatose grandmother.”

“Long enough.” Of course, if Batman did croak, Joker wouldn’t have a reason to escape, anyway. “Just go back the way you came.” Batman gave him a rough shove back towards the store. They were almost there when one of those large hands clamped down onto his shoulder. “Wait. I want you to at least get there. We’ll take the car.”

The car? “The car?”

“Batmobile.”

Those were the only words spoken until they actually got to the sexiest car Joker had ever seen. Sleek and black, intimidating and powerful, all just like its owner. Surely the order to climb into the car was the result of the pollen; there was no other way Joker would ever see the inside of that gorgeous machine.

~*~

Joker listened as Batman downshifted and he felt the Batmobile slow. They turned onto a bumpy road, and Joker wondered where they were. But he’d promised Batman he’d keep the blindfold on, and he didn’t peek.

Finally they slowed to a crawl, and Joker heard a large, heavy door open. The car rolled forwards and then halted, and the door closed shut behind them.

Batman slid gloved fingers through Joker’s hair, the grip rough along his skin, and used his thumb to peel the blindfold up and off. Joker blinked and looked around. They were in a cement room with screens and diagrams on the walls. There was a computer console in one corner.

“Who does your decorating, IBM?”

Batman didn’t answer, just turned to him. He touched the side of his cowl and suddenly Joker could see Batman’s eyes. Blue and dark, intent and bright. And focused on him. A rough gloved hand stroked down his face.

Joker’s mouth went dry and he swallowed. Hard.

Batman finally spoke and Joker shifted his attention to his mouth. “It’s been too long.”

“Too long for what, Batsy?” Joker’s voice was soft, and a little hollow.

What was Batman doing?

Batman didn’t answer, and instead ran his gloved hand down Joker’s arm. Then he took off the glove. The bare fingers felt so different against his skin. Softer. Warmer.

What the hell?

Batman spoke again, and Joker couldn’t remember any time when someone had spoken to him with this amount of reverence. Even Harley tainted her words now. “I can’t believe I never noticed.” He moved closer and popped open the cuffs around Joker’s wrists, and even if Batman had bothered to clarify what he was talking about Joker didn’t think he’d be able to hear him over the beating of his own heart.

Suddenly Joker realized what was going on. The pollen! Ivy had given him sex pollen?

Batman pulled off his other glove, tossed it into the narrow backseat, and made a lunge for Joker. Only years of practice grappling with Batman prepared him to deflect him from his target, clearly a kiss. That, and Batman actually stopped when Joker pushed him away.

That wasn’t an edge of hurt in Batman’s pretty eyes. Joker refused to believe it. “What’s wrong? I know you want this. Have for years. Want,” Batman’s voice sank deeper, “me.”

Joker’s heart beat impossibly harder, pumping blood directly to his cock. Hard and aching in six seconds flat, just from Batman. Well, sexy Batman. It’d only been his fantasy for _years_.

Why _did_ he stop him? Because Batman was drugged. Because it was wrong.

Because kissing was too intimate, too personal, and if he kissed Batman he couldn’t watch his mouth, and it couldn’t be on his cock.

Definitely something in that last bunch. ‘Wrong’ wasn’t something he really cared to understand.

“So, Batsy, you want me?” Joker could barely speak, so constricting was the weight of Batman’s gaze. “You want to suck me?” Joker trailed his white fingers down the dark expanse of armored chest in front of him and whispered, “You want to fuck me?”

Batman growled and pulled Joker’s left leg over the center console and Joker righted himself indignantly. “Not right here, Batsy.” Not in the _car_. He wasn’t his prom date. _On_ the car, however... “Wouldn’t you rather see me spread on the hood?”

Batman grunted and slipped out the driver’s side door. Joker followed, using his own door, and tried to formulate a plan to make the most of the situation. Batman intended to strip him and fuck him raw. Joker couldn’t think right now of a way to get more detailed than that. Maybe if he had any blood left in his brain...

At the fender stood the Dark Knight, his knight for tonight. Joker watched as Batman reached between his own legs, and then the groin guard for his costume separated from the rest of it. It pulled away to reveal a fairly good-sized bulge covered by a layer of black spandex.

Was the whole costume separate plates? Or only a few large pieces? What did the man look like beneath all that protection?

Joker decided abruptly that he didn’t want to know. Batman without the suit was just a man. What was the fun in that? It was bad enough he’d seen his eyes.

Batman reached to loosen his boots, and Joker clamped a hand onto his arm. “Keep it on. All of it. And get on your knees.”

He obliged like a whore, and strong hands unzipped Joker’s pants and pulled them down his narrow hips. Batman barely let him step out of them and his polka dot boxers before he was sucking him, tongue everywhere around the head and then pressed underneath when Joker was inside.

Things rarely lived up to expectation, but this may have. Maybe it was just that it’d been a while, but it was good all on its own. Batsy knew how to give head, knew where to lick and where to press, and Joker shuddered as a wave of pleasure rolled through him.

His hands drifted to either side of the cowl, thumbs caressing the ears, and it was so much like his fantasies, so much like his dreams...

It was almost too late not to come before he pushed Batman away. “Fuck me, Batsy. Like you know you want to.” Like he hoped he wanted to. “Then you take it from there. I’m yours.” Owned.

Batman slipped Joker’s jacket over his bony shoulders, and let it drop to the floor. His bowtie followed. He unbuttoned his shirt himself, enjoying stripping before those intent blue eyes.

His shoes were next, then his socks, and finally he was nude, cock jutting forward from green pubic hair. Batman grabbed him by the shoulder and spun him so he faced the Batmobile, then bent him over it. A thick black boot nudged his feet apart, and those calloused hands stroked down his back. Fingers squeezed his hips as the heels pressed at the base of his spine, spreading him open.

Thumbs pressed around his opening and then saliva- it was all it could have been- trickled along it. Batman grunted, shifted, and then a colder fluid was drizzled along his hot flesh. “Lubricant,” was whispered into his ear, followed by, “Condoms, too. Better prepared than a boy scout.”

From that belt? He was a walking drug store. Other purposes, probably, unless the rumors about Batsy and Catwoman were true. But he wouldn’t need lube. Unless... Superman!

Without warning the blunt head of Batman’s cock pressed against him. Armor clad hips thrust forward and Joker held his breath as his body tightened to ward off the invasion.

“Relax. Or I won’t be able to give you what you want.”

He did want it, and he forced himself to calm down. He got himself comfortable, and because it was right in front of him, studied the stylish grate that ran up the middle of the top half of the hood. Slowly, painfully, Batman forced his way inside. It was dry and it hurt, but he tried not to focus on that. Instead, he thought of what they looked like, Batman behind him, cape flowing over them both, billowing slightly as he moved, Joker supporting himself on his forearms and wincing on every forward thrust.

Eventually it got easier as he was opened and more lube was added, and Joker started to get hard again. This was _it_. Batman fucking him, owning him, one hand clamped on Joker’s shoulder to keep him in place. The weight of that hand, the pressure of the armor against his legs, the sound of the shallow breaths behind him... _It_.

Except...

“Tie me up,” he gasped out, and Batman leaned over him.

“Are you sure?” he rasped, and thrust particularly hard, forcing Joker onto the tips of his toes.

“Yes!”

His knight pulled out and rolled Joker over, somehow simultaneously pulling one of those familiar zip strips out of the ether. He yanked Joker’s arms over his head, wrapped the strip around one wrist, threaded it through a bottom bar of the grate, then around the other wrist.

He was restrained, trapped, Batman looming over him in the gloom, pupils dilated, his own pale thighs spread around Batman’s waist.

Joker was harder than he’d ever been.

Batman pushed himself in again, and Joker tried not to cry out, but it felt too good, and he wasn’t sure if it was the cock inside him or the vision in front of him. He just went with it, and focused on the straps around his wrists, the sweaty metal under his back, and the tingly heat in his groin.

He got just a little more turned on each time he tugged at his bindings and found himself still latched to the car, and then Batman threaded his fingers through Joker’s sweaty hair and kept his head in place as well.

Pinned. Everywhere. By Batman fucking him.

He couldn’t hold back anymore, and came all over his chest and stomach, body spasming until it went limp.

Batman came soon thereafter, an odd self-satisfied smirk on his face. He pushed Joker’s legs down and pulled out, then tossed the condom into a garbage can near the computer.

He turned his back to Joker, and Joker didn’t think too much about what he may be doing until he turned back around and there was a fresh condom on his erection.

“So soon, Batsy?” He’d like a little recovery time.

Batman gave a small shake of his head. “Still.”

“Still?” His knight leaned back over him and Joker’s legs went back around him, and when Batman looked back at him after pushing in again, Joker saw how bloodshot those blue eyes were, and how flushed the visible skin was.

Joker tugged again at the zip strip, and it held tight.

It felt good, but mixed in with the pleasure might have been fear.

He ignored it when Batman’s hands wrapped around his thighs to hold him up in a better position.

~*~

Joker came one more time that night, Batman three more, and then the Dark Knight had collapsed onto the floor. Joker wasn’t sure how long ago that was.

What he did know was that his shoulders were sore because his arms were still pulled back above his head, his ass was sore from Batman’s cock, and his lower back was sore because without Batman in front of him, there wasn’t a good place to rest his legs. He was also tired and dehydrated, he smelled bad, and the dried semen on his stomach itched.

And, oh yes, he was _strapped to a car_.

He was almost dozing when the door they’d driven through earlier that night opened and a voice called out, “Batman? You didn’t answer your comm... Oh, shit.” There was the unmistakable sound of dry heaving, a few moments pause, and then a familiar masked face came into view.

“What did you _do_ to him?” The kid recovered quickly from nearly puking his guts out.

“In case you haven’t noticed, Boy Wonder, I’m tied to the car. _I_ haven’t done anything.”

“I can’t believe that.”

“He wanted to do it. Begged. Made the first move.” Joker’s cock gave a half-hearted twitch at the memory.

Robin ignored him and knelt out of view to check over Batman, and Joker heard him mumble something to somebody named “O.” Then he stood and looked over Joker as best he could while clearly wanting to study anything else at all in the room. “You’re bleeding.”

“I thought so.” The lube had run out before Batman did.

“What happened?”

“Can’t you untie me? I’m sick of being tied up.” There was almost enough energy in him to make light of the situation, but not quite. And he was only tired of being bound because Batman was unable to pay attention to him.

“Something tells me it wasn’t all his idea.” Arms crossed over his chest, Robin glared at him until he finally gave in.

“Ivy gave me pollen. You figure it out.”

“Poison Ivy? Gave you...” The Boy Blunder turned green. Joker hoped he didn’t puke, because it was one of the few things that could actually make the situation worse. “How long ago?”

“Don’t know.”

“How much?”

“Some?”

“Don’t you know anything?!”

“I didn’t know there was going to be a quiz. Usually you all don’t talk to me this much.” Robin turned away angrily. “I’m sure I could get more, if you wanted a turn, I mean...”

A green, misshapen Batarang embedded itself into the hood next to his head. “Touchy, Boy Blunder. I thought you all liked to share.”

Robin disappeared from view, then he heard one of the car doors open. A few seconds later Robin was back. And used duct tape to shut him up. He started to protest, as best he could, but he was too sore and tired so he gave up.

Robin started to pace, and shortly thereafter the door to wherever they were opened again. “Robin?” It was the big bird. Former Robin. Nightthing. “What the hell?”

“I don’t know. Knew I couldn’t handle it by myself. All I know is Poison Ivy gave Joker pollen.”

“Oh Christ.” Nightwing came into view. “How’s Batman?”

“Pulse is a little fast, breathing a little shallow. He just got too much, has to get it out of his system, right?”

“I thought he’d inoculated himself to her shit. Must be new.” Nightwing finally looked in his direction, then looked away quickly. “Shit.”

“What do we do?”

“Get Batman to the Cave, bring him,” Nightwing jerked a thumb in his direction, “to Arkham.”

“At least he had the presence of mind to bring him here instead of the Cave. ...and to use protection. Ugh.”

“Always good to have a safety spot. Though I doubt he had _this_ in mind.”

Robin turned green all over again. “I’ll get Batman.”

“Thanks.” Nightwing turned back to him, and twitched as if he didn’t know what to do next. They must not have gone over anything like this in Batschool.

He submitted to Nightwing binding his legs, putting another strip around his wrists outside the grate, then snapping the one binding him to the car, and letting him slip to the floor.

“Oh, screw this.” Joker heard a snapping sound, then a strong chemical smell invaded his nostrils. The last thing he saw before he passed out was Robin checking Batman’s pulse again, and Nightwing muttered something about getting rid of the car.

~*~

He woke up on a familiar cot in a familiar cell. Arkham. Familiar feel of a straight jacket, familiar smell of mildew in the walls.

The only unfamiliar feeling was the ache in his lower back and ass. Every time he so much as tried to sit up, pain shot through his body.

He was going to be reminded of his night with Batman for quite some time. As if he’d ever forget it. His brand new erection pointed out that he wouldn’t.

He could kiss Ivy.

Right before he killed her.

Maybe after.

**Author's Note:**

> I had finally decided to call this "Catalyst," but I accidentally typed "Catalust." It works, too, no?


End file.
